Wolf Asylum

by Mark Fuson

  One other reason Teddy felt Doctor Gagnon trusted him, or was at least not as concerned about him, was the fact he had consumed fetus. Teddy was still interested in resisting, in helping Steve and Darwin in whatever way he could, but the fetus was inside of him and it nagged.

  Teddy sat up from his bed holding his weight with his new arms. The limbs didn’t look right compared to the rest of his body. The new forearms and legs were pale and thin, almost bony in appearance. The line between the old Teddy and the new was heavily scarred and his left arm was slightly crooked, but he had everything he needed.

  His arms and feet were still numbed, the way your mouth might feel after a dentist visit. Although deadened, he could feel the odd spasm and that gave him hope that soon he could walk.

  He put his head back down to the pillow for some more rest. It’s not what he wanted to do; he wanted to go for a walk and find some more fetus drink. It sickened him at the same time it excited him, but he also wondered if it would help his limbs grow stronger. For the moment it was impossible; he closed his eyes and tried to pass the time.

  Fucking little faggot!

  Teddy again found himself in the shower. It was his dream, his nightmare. Steve hovered over the small meek boy puffing up his chest getting ready to strike.

  Fucking little faggot!

  “I forgave you Teddy,” he said as he shrunk down to the proper size Steve.

  “I know,” he said sullenly. “I can’t forgive myself.”

  “I don’t have much time. I see you’ve played along with Doctor Gagnon. You must use these new legs. We have something very important you must do.”

  “You and Darwin?”

  “Yes!” Steve barked. “We’re coming back to New Haven, soon. We need you to do something.”

  “Of course, anything,” Teddy assured.

  “In the east wing of Hadamar you’ll find a man by the name of Dave Cronin. He’s very sick and very dangerous to you. We need you to get a sample of his blood but you cannot touch it—it could be deadly,” Steve lectured as the room began to darken.

  “What do you want me to do with it?”

  “It must behave like the rumors,” Steve said in metaphor as the room dimmed further.

  “I don’t understand,” Teddy replied as the water from the shower head coughed out coagulated blood onto his face. “Please don’t leave; I don’t know what you want!”

  Fucking little faggot!

  Teddy awoke in a sweat and he could feel his body was already changing. The power raced through his veins into his new limbs and his body morphed in unison. He wasn’t sure why he was changing, but he didn’t fight it. With his new claws, Teddy tore away the hospital gown revealing his full-sized animal.

  He rolled from the bed and landed on all fours. For the first time since he had been cursed he felt the gift. His body was restored and the hunger inside of him was growing. Like being drunk, he knew the difference between right and wrong but his ability to care was stunted.

  All Teddy could see was blood and meat and he knew just where to get some. He bolted from his room ripping the door from its frame. The solid wood door fell to the floor, making a deafening crack that anyone inside the hospital would have heard. Undeterred, Teddy ran down the hall looking for the OR and the fridge that had more bottles of the sweet life giving fluid that had brought him so much relief.

  He slammed the swing doors of the operating room, making his way directly to the fridge. He stopped in front of the tiny cooler and opened the door delicately. The light came on and to his delight, there were three bottles of the liquid that his body was in severe need of. He gently grabbed one bottle with his large claws, making an effort not to drop it. The cap was tight; making it difficult with his long knives and eagerness to open the bottle without mashing it with his claw frustrating. Growing impatient, Teddy fumbled and the bottle fell to the floor, shattering and infusing the air with the smell of sweet barbeque and a bakery all in one.

  Unconcerned about the glass, Teddy swiped the floor with his fat tongue picking up nearly all the contents in one sweep. The feel of the fluid brought immediate gratification and he trembled with enchantment. The glass shards cut his tongue but the wounds quickly healed.

  When he finished lapping up the floor, he looked back to see the fridge was still open. The two remaining bottles beckoned him, but he showed restraint. Teddy picked himself up and left the OR, deciding to search for the man in the east wing. He kept himself as the wolf even though he felt like he could bring himself back to just plain Teddy. The wolf was able to walk better than he could as a human. More over, Teddy was enjoying the strength and rapture and he understood now how easy it was to become lost in the power.

  Dave Cronin, alone and near death when Teddy lumbered into his room, was conscious. Teddy had followed the smell of rotting flesh that was combined with soiled bedding. It was distinct and pungent, so much so that not even a human would have been able to ignore it.

  In his waste, three flies had already found their way to life. They moved over Teddy and whipped past his snout before losing interest and returning to the putrefaction.

  Not much was left of Dave. His body now resembled a swollen manatee. Every square foot of his body was three to four times larger than it should be. His body was so large his fat rolls were beginning to spill off the edges of the bed. His skin looked blotchy and pale with varicose veins runnning up and down his exterior.

  Under his octuple-size chin his vocal cords were being crushed, yet Dave still gasped for air to speak. His eyes had swelled and ruptured, leaving him in the dark a day earlier although he could still hear well enough to know he had a visitor.

  “Finish me,” he wheezed.

  Teddy reluctantly began his trek back to his human form which felt like getting out of bed on a ridiculously cold morning. A minute later, he was human enough to speak with the one he had been told to seek out.

  “What happened to you?” Teddy asked with a still, deep voice.

  “Fucker…got…me.” Was all Dave could say as blood spattered from his raspy voice.

  “Well, you don’t have to worry. I’m here to help you. I’m just going to take some samples from you and I’ll see if we can’t figure out the source of the infection.” Teddy searched the room for garbs and gloves, heeding Steve’s warning.

  “Liar.” He coughed.

  Teddy laughed at the dying man. He abruptly stopped and for the first time in years, he again felt like the bully, and it didn’t feel good. Guilt swept over him which was hard to distinguish from the shame. He had to come clean.

  “You’re right, I’m sorry. I don’t think I can help you. I’ve been asked to get some samples from you, it might help us…honestly I don’t even know how it’s supposed to.” Teddy stopped for a moment. “No one can save you.”

  Having found everything he needed, Teddy slipped on his protective wears and gloved up. With a couple of needles on hand, he approached the hulking mass that sounded as though his stomach was churning continuously. Gas ruptured from hidden crevasses all over the mass and it took no expert to realize that soon Dave would be dead.

  Teddy removed the plastic cap from the needle and jabbed it into the flesh. With no medical training of any kind, he could only guess how to take samples. He pulled back on the plunger and the vial filled with a clear-yellow material with solid particulates that were neither blood nor blister water.

  With one syringe full he readied the next needle with the goal of acquiring blood.

  The second and third needles all pulled out more of the same material which disheartened the novice intern.

  The extraction sites had quickly darkened and become soft, oozing more yellow juice. What started out as localized bruising quickly spread outwards from all three locations and it showed no sign of stopping. Even Dave’s own breathing had changed from labored to restricted. Whatever was going to happen to him, it would be very soon.

  Feeling an urgent need to withdraw from the room, Teddy
limped his way into the corridor, holding onto his three samples. He looked back only once to see the flesh of Dave ballooning off the bed in thick streams. The flesh began to break away, causing small geysers of cadaverine and putrescine gas to blow out. In one instant, the smell of a live being was gone to be replaced by the smell of a hundred rotting corpses in the August sun.

  Teddy closed the door, latching it as the odd sound of a balloon bursting could be heard. It wasn’t the sound of a crisp new balloon that had been over-filled, however. It sounded more like an old balloon that had slowly leaked over time and then had been forcibly punctured.

  Curious, Teddy opened the door again and took a look. The door pushed through the mush leaving a sleek skid mark on the linoleum. Inside the room the lights had been covered in bio-matter casting a yellow-red hue on everything. From floor to ceiling globs of Dave dripped and slid down surfaces. Steam or gas rose off the pieces of flesh, making Dave look like he had liquefied.

  Overcome by the odor, Teddy again shut the door and began walking the halls not knowing what to do next.

  After his transformation and fetus, his body had again improved. His limbs still looked smaller than they should have, even as the scars were beginning to erase. Yet it was clear his body was absorbing the new material.

  “I must hide this stuff,” Teddy mumbled to himself.

  Teddy being the Trekkie that he was, knew it was the logical choice to save the samples. He had been asked to take samples so they would must be stored somewhere that Doctor Gagnon wouldn’t look. The other task he needed to think about was how to save the samples?

  “Freezer; I must find a freezer,” he concluded.

  After a moment thinking about his situation, he came up with a place to hide the samples that was pure brilliance. Fridges and freezers throughout the hospital might be looked at in everyday usage, but the old morgue would not be used at all. No bodies would make it to the morgue from what Teddy had seen. The werewolves had an appetite that could never be fulfilled; that much he understood personally.

  Teddy limped his way to the basement and found the old morgue. The lights were off when he arrived and were a bit slow to engage. Once the sterile room was bright again, everything looked dusty and that was a good sign.

  With a hobble to the first unit, Teddy found that it was still on. He considered leaving the samples but then decided against it. The first freezer would be the most likely to be opened; he just proved that point himself. He closed the door and walked along the bank stainless steel doors until he found one on the end that still had a name tag on the door.

  It read: Marie Foster.

  Teddy hadn’t known Darwin’s mother but he knew enough about his family that he was aware of their names. Cracking the door open he quickly realized that the body of Darwin’s mother was still inside, and frozen solid. Someone had knowingly left the body in the morgue. They had the foresight to decrease the temperature to well below freezing instead of the short term refrigeration that the morgue would traditionally do.

  Teddy said in prayer, remaining silent for an entire minute. “Mrs. Foster, I’m sorry you’ve been forgotten. I’m sorry that I destroyed your son’s life. It’s because of me, my actions that things went the way they did. I feel responsible for everything. I couldn’t have known at the time how I would have affected so many people. I created a monster, and for that I’m truly sorry.

  “I need your help now. I’m told these samples will help put things right and I must hide them. You were murdered in December and you’ve been here ever since, which means I can leave these with you and they should be safe. All I can offer you in return is giving you your little boy back and a proper burial when this is all finished.”

  A click of a door and heels on the floor could be heard at the other end of the hospital. Teddy marveled at how his ears could hone in so quickly. Without further discussion he shoved the needles under Marie Foster, slid her back in and closed the door delicately.

  As fast as he could limp he ran up the stairs to the patient floors to make it look like he had been walking on his new legs. He tried to be as quiet as possible, knowing her ears were as good as his.

  “Theodore Holmes!” she shrieked throughout the hospital.

  He entered the hallway and knew she was near. He limped his way along and could hear her heals tapping on the hollow floors. She was near.

  She rounded the corner at the deserted nurses’ station and found Teddy stumbling along. The good doctor looked at him in displeasure, as if she knew he had been up to no good.

  “Yes, ma’am!” he huffed. “My legs—I can feel my legs!”

  “Why have you been wandering around? I told you to rest up!” she scolded.

  “Sorry…Evita. I fell asleep and had a nightmare. I changed. I broke into your lab and ate more fetus. I’m very sorry.” Teddy told his half-truth, hoping to God it would be enough.

  “Is that all?” she asked.

  “I found a mess in one of the rooms in the east wing. The smell brought me to it. What is it?”

  “That was someone who got very sick,” she said bluntly.

  “Would you like me to clean it up?” he asked, trying to be overly helpful.

  “No. That is a very generous offer but you should continue to work on your rehabilitation. I will get some slaves from the mine to clean it up.” The doctor looked him over. “Now, after you changed, did you regenerate any?”

  “Oh, yes!” Quite a bit really,” he said excitedly.

  “Change for me now. I want to watch.”

  Without giving it any thought Teddy threw his mind back to what it felt like to change. He could feel his heart rate instantly increase and soon he could feel his claws elongating from his new hands. Teddy gave himself over as his hospital garbs again began to shred at the seams until they fell to the floor like a pile of rags.

  Teddy was a monster again and this time he had a new feeling inside of him. He wanted to kill.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Finding the witch that Shawn had told them about was no easy task. She had been in the underworld only as a human who embraced the dark arts on Earth. In the underworld she did not age; the afterlife had no hold over her since she was not actually dead…yet she still had to be cunning if she was to keep hidden from the overseers for the centuries.

  Steve only knew part of the legend which would make finding the witch all the more challenging. Shawn had said that there was no way to access her home; at least no easy way.

  Finding the one called Lynda Aspen had become a priority. The woman had expertise in the underworld that could help in resistance against it. She might also be able to increase the odds of success in traveling back to Earth. In other words, she had knowledge they couldn’t pass up.

  Shawn had been lucky. Lynda had found him shortly after he had taken his own life in the real world. She helped him early on to create strategies that would assist his survival. She passed on her knowledge of the underworld creatures and herbal remedies that had extra powers to either aid or hinder existence.

  Shawn had never been to her home. He only knew that to find it, you had to travel underwater-so to speak. Her domain was in a cave that was under a shelf in a body of blood. That was key Shawn said. There was no water or large bodies of fluid anywhere in the area that he was aware of and none locally that were made from blood.

  It was Lynda that said she was, “a bloody mess every time she came out for supplies.”

  Shawn knew Lynda to be clever in her words, especially when speaking of her home. Lynda had never said outright she lived in a cave but he had concluded that in her subtle hints that: if he should must find her, he should look for blood, and under the blood you would find her.

  Darwin and Steve traveled surreptitiously, being mindful of the surroundings. Steve had fully reverted and they were making a point not to engage in any form of affection, as that might set Steve down the road to becoming an apostle of Hell. The conversation during their journey was light
as both were afraid that any topic may aid in Steve’s deterioration. He was back to perfect, and both wanted him to stay that way.

  Steve suggested they travel to where Shawn had entered the underworld. It was there that Lynda found Shawn and it made sense that she might live in the area.

  Shawn came to the same way that he had died. He walked into a church and burst into flames. There was nothing romantic about it. The hallowed ground legend was true, especially for demons which was the category Shawn fell under. He had enough humanity left to want it to end and after attempting a few other methods unsuccessfully, he walked into a cathedral looking for solace. Instead, he found release from the world and took the house of worship with him.

  When he arrived in death, he burnt into existence in reverse. Starting as ash he became more and more whole. The fire gave birth to him. After several hours the flames were out and Shawn had become a member of the afterlife.

  The pain was so intense, he immediately passed out.

  Steve entered the afterlife, with the exception of his genitals—which followed him after the fire was out.

  Steve remarked, “Shawn said when he came to, he was inside the hollowed remains of a stone building. It was six hours from where he lived and in the direction of the shadows.”

  “North?”

  Steve shook his head. “Not here. North. South. None of that exists. If you notice, the shadows change direction periodically. So, we have to keep an eye on them and continue moving with them. For all I know, we could be walking in a fucking circle. I remember Shawn saying to follow the shadows from his place.”

  “Okay, six hours it is. No watch but I’m a pretty good gauge of time,” he joked.

  “Dar…I don’t want to sound un-fucking-grateful, but the longer this takes, the longer we are together…the more I slip. Let me send you back and be done with this fucking idea,” Steve said, stopping mid-trail.